One of these young men, Harry, was a drunken, worthless chap, who had caused the death of his beautiful and devoted wife by his brutality, while the other seems to have been a very respectable member of society. Some time after the visit of the before-mentioned party of Skinners, both brothers (who were not on good terms) by a strange coincidence resolved to dig up the bell and procure the treasure on the same night. Harry, whose wife had recently died, came to the spot first, with the necessary tools, and also a bottle of his neverfailing companion, brandy. The night was dark and cold, and the winter wind sighed in the old apple-tree over his head as he struck the first blow upon the frozen ground with his pick. The work was severe as the ground was hard from frost, but with the aid of many a pull upon the black bottle, he soon had the satisfaction of hearing the pick ring upon the metal of the bell. After cleaning out the dirt a little and taking a look at the precious things within, he sat down to rest and finish the last of the contents of his beloved bottle.

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He had hardly done this and sent the empty vessel crashing amongst the stones and debris of the excavation, when he thought he saw a light approaching. He took an instant to assure himself he was not mistaken, then put out his own lantern and stepped behind a tree to await his visitor. In a few moments he saw his brother, pick in hand, advance to the spot, and heard him exclaim: "What! somebody has been here before me, but they must have left hurriedly, for nothing is taken." Harry waited no longer, but stepping from behind the tree, informed his brother that his time had come, and suiting his action to his words, seized his unfortunate victim by the throat.